The quintessential “character”, Paul Tumel was a veteran of World War II, a Selectman, a hunter, a fisherman, a farmer, and a master of engineering, construction, and landscaping at many of our homes. He was also a storyteller, and we thought it most appropriate to remember him the way most of us will – with “Paulie Stories.”

Dr. Dirt

Paulie was one of Hampton’s finest icons. Known for his quick wit and colorful vocabulary, he would often travel the roads in his backhoe, stopping by to visit, chatting with neighbors, while delivering bananas to all the kids in the neighborhood.  Paulie loved kids – he took great pleasure in seeing them fish at his pond – and he LOVED his equipment. He was a clever man, there wasn’t anything he couldn’t fix – a tractor, a chain saw, a toy, or a toaster. He gave duct tape a whole new meaning. His mission in life was to help people; he loved to figure things out, he loved to be called upon, and he couldn’t wait to start digging! They didn’t call him Dr. Dirt for nothing. He was proud of his work – the ponds he dug, the land he transformed, and the rocks he moved, even the ones that weren’t supposed to be moved. One day I looked out my kitchen window to see the Dial-a-Ride bus bouncing through the fields. Paulie decided to request the scenic route to take them on a field trip and show them the giant rock he dug out. One morning he jumped in his backhoe to meet the Dial-a-Ride bus, but the transmission wasn’t cooperating. Did that stop Paulie?  Nope. He lined himself up backwards at the top of our driveway and inched himself down the road, using the back bucket to get where he needed to go. It looked like a giant yellow inch worm! Just about everyone will tell you a story about Paulie Tumel. He touched the lives of many people.

Judy Tumel

The Entertainer

Paulie’s mother had a “swear jar”, and I remember Paulie saying – it’s getting so I can’t afford to go home! He sold us our first TV. We were the only family in Scotland to have one, and everyone came to see it. At our wedding, Paulie put willow branches all around his belt and danced the hula.

Pat Donahue

The Bulldozer Whisperer

Paulie decided we needed a bulldozer for a job. We drove to his house and to an old bulldozer that hadn’t been used for over five years.  When I saw its condition, I doubted it would even stir. There were vines growing all through it and around the engine – some at least five inches thick. Paulie walked around it, muttering to himself. I realized he was actually talking to the dozer. He climbed on, pushing the vines aside, and kept whispering to it. Pats it a couple of times. Turns the key and with a deep groan, it rumbles to life! I went to grab something to cut the vine. Why bother? Paulie put it in gear and the monster began to move, ripping up the vine. That’s how he drove it out of there. By the time we got to the job, the natural camouflage was a distant memory.

Matt LaFontaine

How Things Work

We hired Paul to clear a field full of brush and turn it into a meadow.  There are probably dozens of stories like this from all over Hampton.  But that’s not all that Paulie was about. Paulie loved kids. He would let our son Geoff ride around with him on his backhoe, much to the little guy’s delight. When Geoff wanted to try to collect sap and make maple syrup, Paulie showed him how to tap a tree with a hollow sumac stem and collect the sap in a gallon milk jug. And Geoff’s first chicken was awarded to him by Paul, which led to a half dozen egg-layers. We figured out early on that if we wanted something done, we would just put the idea in Paul’s head and let him come up with the “right” way to do it. His backhoe acted as an extension of his arm. He didn’t have much use for “government” but had an amazing amount of knowledge about “how things work” and was a conservationist in his own way.

Glen and Kathi Newcombe

The Flirt

Once when I was working at the polls, he wanted me to put the “Vote Today” sticker on his ball cap with the fish hook and the cheerios box logo and warned me that he was “half polish and half ticklish.”

Sarah McDermott

The Advocate

Paulie had, let’s say, a no nonsense way about him. He was a self-employed hard worker and didn’t believe in buying on credit. He didn’t mince words either. If someone did or said something he disagreed with, he would gladly let that person know. The way he did things was pretty much like the way he spoke. He took on causes the way he took on the jobs he did: with the idea there would be a positive end result. Paulie felt that little had been done to honor the only WWII servicemen killed during that war. Felt strongly enough to speak with the First Selectman until it was decided to display a beautiful plaque on the Old King’s Highway bridge. The plaque honors the life given by Leslie L. Jewett. When he told me this some years later, I was so moved. I thanked him on behalf of my family and myself. Leslie Jewett is a part of our family tree.

Jo Freeman

You Got a Beer?

My well ran dry and I needed the new one connected to my house. I knew the perfect person for the job – Paulie. He shows up with his equipment, asks – “Where is it going? You got a beer? It’s hot out here.”  I answered his question and got him his beer. He orders me to move this, move that. Get this, get that. Typical Paulie, giving orders but laser-focused on the job.  Before you know it, he’s done. He shuts off his equipment, pulls his ball cap off, wipes his brow, and says, “So where’s my beer? This empty ain’t full.” I get him his beer, he pulls a swallow and tells me the price, a lot less than anyone else would have given me. We miss Paulie and his generosity to Hampton and to people in situations like mine.

Larry Robert

The Good Neighbor

He helped us in so many ways with his advice, knowledge and fearless conviction to every single day. From the first time that we met him, he treated us as part of his own family. He helped with our family and home as we began to grow. He showed us how to fish, make maple syrup and most of all to plan and think ahead. He saved us many times from deep snows and other predicaments with his backhoe. We could call him anytime to answer questions about most anything. He was an engineer, lumberjack, sawyer, farmer to name a few. He was one of the greatest generation. He kept us grounded and determined. We are thankful to have shared some of his time.

The Jones Family

The Welcome Wagon

Paulie was one of the first people to welcome us to town. We were introduced to him because of a problem with our driveway. After it flooded it swelled and it looked like there was a big pimple in the middle of it. Someone told us to call the dirt doctor. “Who the heck is that?” It was Paulie, who came and said, “Don’t pop that thing!” He told us there was a stream under the driveway and returned with his backhoe and fixed it. He used to come to the General Store every day when I worked there and we would sit and talk and tell jokes and listen to the radio. One day he said, “let’s dance.” And so we waltzed around the parking lot.

Peggy King

The Hunter

In my teenage years I would on occasion go with Paul, his hounds and the boys for a night time coon hunt.  Paul was by far the best woodsman I’ve ever come across. He had that unique sense of direction that could lead us around in the dark with only a flashlight. We would cover many miles and hundreds of acres with his hounds. We never got lost. It always amazed me how he would lead us back where we started at the truck. No G.P.S. Paul had it built into his head!  Not only did Paul know the woods, he knew his dogs. I remember one night he lost his dog. “He must have got on a track of a deer or something,” Paul said. I asked – what do we do now? Paul took off his coat and set it on the ground where he had let the dog off earlier and said, “I’ll come back in the morning early, he’ll be on my coat.”  Sure enough, the next morning the dog was there, waiting on Paul’s coat.

Dave Halbach

The First Two Words were J. C. and Paulie Always Had the Last

Paulie was working around his pond with his backhoe when someone stopped and asked if he had a permit. He said, sure, I’ve got two. One for me to mind my own business and another one for you to mind yours!  There was a gravel pile at Buttonball and I asked Paulie if he knew who owned it. Paulie said – I’ve asked around and no one seems to know. Tell you what. You get your dump truck and I’ll meet you down there with my pay loader and I’ll bet in five minutes we’ll find out! Once when we were in the cellar cutting a deer, he had a little beagle that would eat the scraps. Someone yelled down – you better not be feeding that dog any venison. I don’t want him chasing deer. Paulie said – hey, I feed him hamburger all the time and he ain’t never chased a cow. One time a farmer called Paulie and said – someone’s been shooting all my deer and I think it’s you. Paulie said – if I ever shoot a deer with your name on it, I’ll bring it right up to your house. Once a “gentleman” farmer wanted to dabble in maple syrup – didn’t know the first thing about it, but asked Paulie to tap his trees. So Paulie drilled the trees for him, and when he finished, the “farmer” pointed to a very large tree and said – I want that one tapped. When Paulie refused, he said – I’m paying you and you’re going to tap that tree! Paulie threw his drill in the snow and said – no I’m not, cuz it’s a f’n oak!

PJ Navin

P.S. Having Paulie Tumel in my life was like having a second dad.

Paulisms

You knew you were in for an adventure when you picked up the phone and heard, “Hey Ed.” Of course, we were only going to one place, wouldn’t take long, until you heard the word “short-cut”. That meant at least two or three more hours.  Most of Paulie’s sayings though were “on the money”. He would say, you can earn a small fortune in dogs and horses, but you have to start with a large fortune.  And whenever anyone won the lottery, he would say, sure I’d like to be rich, but not on someone else’s money. I’d rather earn my own.

Ed Burchfield

Paulie the Blunt

In the 90’s, young people often spoke of “finding” themselves. Paulie didn’t have much time for that. Once a young guy who was helping him with odd jobs said he was “trying to find” himself and Paulie said, “I know a quick way. Grab your arse and say – here I am!”

Wesley Wilcox

L’Artiste

Paulie was one of my dad’s best friends. When he couldn’t drive on the road any more, my father invited him to bring his backhoe through the fields to his house, where there were soon many inexplicable piles of dirt. That’s okay. Whenever Paulie found a beautiful boulder, he would bring it to our garden. And when the very expensive professional engineers messed up the installation of a swale and cistern, Paulie fixed it. For $407. 31, cash. In spite of some of those rough words and heavy equipment, his eye was always on the aesthetics of the landscape, and there are plenty of ponds around to prove it.

Dayna Arriola

The “Retired” Paulie

Although I knew Paulie and his family most of my life, I didn’t see too much of him until he and my dad tried to retire. Ha-ha, neither of them had the slightest clue how to slow down and relax! Every day my thought was, “Oh boy, what are those two up to today?”  They had to be out and about. Up for breakfast at Cozy Corner at 6 every morning, then they were off – doing odd jobs, visiting and helping neighbors, just riding around reminiscing. Dump day was a favorite. Paulie “had to” bring Koty something every Wednesday. He went through the shack until he found a toy, a tool, something to leave on the porch for Koty when he got home from school.  He really did find some great stuff, although I was less than pleased when he brought a full size working cross bow!  If he couldn’t find anything, he would bring something from home, even his heavy equipment catalogues. He always brought something. That’s how I remember Paulie – he was a kind and generous man who loved children.

Judy Noel

The Teacher

Paulie was a great educator. He didn’t teach you what to think. He taught you how to think. He allowed you to make mistakes; those were the lessons I learned. When I started working on heavy equipment with him, he would say, “Don’t go into a hole that you can’t back out of.” That advice applied to so much more than bulldozers. Many years later I was fighting a fire in Los Alamos when someone drove a bulldozer into a pond and was mired deep in the mud. I told them I could get it out. They laughed and said, yeah, right, how? But Paulie also told me never to divulge what you get paid to do. So I negotiated my terms, and then pulled it out. I never knew when Paulie would take me hunting. He would stop in front of the house, beep the horn, and I knew that meant I had 20 seconds to get out the door. Maybe I’d be home at 9, or maybe 2 in the morning. I was only 8 years old, but my parents never objected; they knew I was in good hands. Once the game wardens stopped him in Natchaug Forest, and Paulie said, “I wouldn’t look in that trunk if I were you.” They took the bait and his keys, and his coon dog, who lived up to its name, Khrushchev, took care of the rest. Paulie taught a lot of people lessons. One story is that during the Cold War, there were Russian neighbors suspected of meeting with Communists. An FBI Agent tried to solicit Paulie’s help. He handed him a pitchfork and said, you’ll need this. When the agent asked why, he said – to clean my barn. The Agent said, I’m not doing your work, and Paulie said, then don’t ask me to do yours.

Rich Schenk

Someone to Watch over You

I picked up a double barrel shotgun too old to shoot but I liked the way it looked.  I showed it to Paulie and he mounted it on an old barn board for my fireplace mantle and burned into the wood the words, “Ye Olde Trusty Musket”.  He carved my name in the wooden handles of all my tools, too, so that when relatives borrowed them they knew where they came from.  He had interesting remedies for bees’ nests. Once when I warned him of a wasp nest over his head, he grabbed it and crushed it with his hands.  Another time I warned him of a hornets’ nest, he said “Get the shot gun”.  It worked. After my father passed away, Paul would plow my driveway, fix my lawn mower, whatever was needed.  He did so without my even asking and he wouldn’t take anything either. He would only say, “Someone’s gotta watch out for you.”

Deb Paine

Editor’s Note: It’s likely that everyone has a “Paulie Story” to share and we welcome whatever anyone wants to contribute. A new series titled “Paulie Tales” is not out of the question.